


Warm You With My Fur

by Welsh_Woman



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Forgotten fic, M/M, Tags May Change, myths and legends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16846429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman
Summary: Werewolves were only ever something Stiles heard of in legends, a relic from a time gone by.Someone like Derek shouldn't even existat all, much less be able to glower at him so fiercely...





	Warm You With My Fur

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a post that fell across my dash and inspired me to bang out a basic outline. It's been lurking on my computer ever since. I might write more later...
> 
>  
> 
> [This is the original post that inspired me!](http://littlecofiegirl.tumblr.com/post/62068598360/banryeo-this-man-reeks-of-wolf-au-a)

Stiles’ eyes furrow, his foxskin tingling from his transformation as he reaches forward to touch what many believed to be myth and legend,

“Careful, Stiles!” Scott’s panic makes him forget Stiles’ title, but they are much like brothers and no one calls him on it as he shifts forward, almost as if he wants to pull his prince away from the strange human that smelt wrong. “We don’t know what he can do…”

“He’s unconscious, Scott,” is Stiles’ absentminded reply, his eyes still fixed on the form in front of him. The man is older than him, stubble sticky with the blood that has stopped running like a river from his head only because the cold air has caused it to clot close, face flushed with fever-brightness as his lids flicker in disquiet slumber. "I think I’ll be fine.“

It is then that Stiles gives in to the urge to caress the man’s face, but only just; he lifts the werewolf’s chin, letting him take in the angular face and strong jaw, making him wonder where the werewolf’s own skin might be, considering the only furs he is wearing are the ones humans use to keep out the cold…

There is sudden movement, a cacophony of yips from his foxes, and Stiles’ arm in a vice-like grasp as steel eyes glazed over with pain glare at him while their owner’s lips attempt to pull back into a snarl.

"Who are you?”

Blinking at the rumble that is this creature’s voice, Stiles’ shifts his arm in an attempt to break the hold on it, but it only causes the werewolf to tighten his grip, seeming to put all his energy into keeping Stiles at bay and keep his eyes open.

“I could ask you the same question, werewolf,” His eyes sharpen at Stiles’ tone and he tries to push himself to his feet before giving up with a grunt of pain, a look of annoyance at his own weakness covering his features. “Why don’t you let us help you instead of trying to break my arm?”

Now the annoyance is being pointed in Stiles’ direction. “I don’t know who you are.”

“Well, that is easily fixed,” Stiles ignores the concerned whimper from Scott, tugging on his arm one more time and smiling at the werewolf when he releases it, waving over a few of his foxes when he has it under his own power again. “My name is Stiles and this is my territory.”

There is a growl or two before the werewolf lets the pair that Stiles called forward help him, during which Stiles is pretty sure that he passed out again, so he is more than a little surprised when those steely eyes focus on him long enough for the werewolf to utter a single word:

“Derek.”

And that is all he says as they make their way back to the Den, leaving Stiles to wonder just who this ‘Derek’ is, what he was doing in his territory, and why he was the only one left in a clearing that smelt of ash and death…


End file.
